


It Figures

by lionessvalenti



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Amputee Bucky Barnes, Artist Steve Rogers, First Meetings, Getting Together, M/M, Nudity, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21948802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionessvalenti/pseuds/lionessvalenti
Summary: Steve went to his regularly scheduled figure drawing class. He didn't expect to leave with the model.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 12
Kudos: 149
Collections: Stucky Secret Santa 2019





	It Figures

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nalonzoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nalonzoo/gifts).



It was a grey, dreary day, and the dim light of the studio, with its floor to ceiling windows, reflected that. Even with the overhead lights, the room had a stark, bluish tint to it. Steve frowned, but they would have to make do. No one could change the weather.

The classroom was about half full as Steve took a seat near the front. 

Steve looked forward to his art class every week. After deciding not to pursue art as a career and going for something "safe", art became his number one hobby. It was relaxing.

The figure drawing course he was taking now was especially good. The professor, Miranda, went out of her way to find a variety of models for them to draw. It wasn't a parade of the same looking white, thin people, but all sorts of body types and racial diversity. It was refreshing.

When Miranda walked into the room with this week's model, Steve had a split second of disappointment. The man was white and a lean, and, as Steve noticed a second later, completely gorgeous. His long hair was pulled up into a messy bun, a couple wisps of hair framing his attractive face. He was every bit the standard sort of model most classes Steve had taken up this point offered. It wasn't until Steve stared for several moments until he noticed the left arm of the model's robe hung loose and empty.

Miranda started talking about light and shadows, and maybe something about negative space, but Steve was only half listening, his gaze still caught on the beautiful model.

The model pulled off his robe and sat down on the stool in the center of the room. Steve knew he should be a professional and not immediately look at the dick, but he did anyway, his gaze going between the model's legs before he even had a chance to stop himself. Not very big, but in this completely unarousing situation, that hardly meant anything.

"This is Bucky," Miranda said, and the model --Bucky -- gave a casual wave and a smile. He seemed completely at ease naked, with his scars on display. Steve admired that.

Steve took a breath as Miranda and Bucky discussed poses. He would need to focus, or he could have his worst class ever with the most gorgeous model. Even if the attractiveness of the model shouldn't hold any bearing on the work. He knew that, but he also wanted to _capture_ something here.

Once Steve got started, he found himself in the zone without even realizing it. The class flew by, and Steve had several sketches he was very pleased with. He wasn't trying to make high art here, it was all about the lines and structure, but he couldn't quite keep himself from adding some of the details of Bucky's face.

When the class was over, Steve packed up his charcoals, but kept his eye on Bucky as he did. Not that it mattered. He could hardly go ask out the class's figure model after staring at his naked form for hours. That seemed hardly tasteful. 

When Steve was ready to leave, Bucky was gone. Probably off getting dressed in the privacy of another room. There wasn't any sense in hanging around, so Steve left.

He'd have some nice sketches to draw from this week, at least.

Steve walked outside, pleased to find it was no longer raining, though the sky was still dark, leaving everything washed out and blue. He tucked his portfolio under his arm and started down a flight of concrete steps toward the campus exit.

He stopped mid-step as he spotted Bucky a few paces beyond the foot of the stairs. He wore tight jeans and a white t-shirt. Unlike the robe he'd worn before the classes started, the shirt had been altered, with the left sleeve removed, and probably sewn shut. He had a messenger bag slung over his other shoulder.

Not paying attention to the stairs, Steve misstepped and tumbled down the remaining three steps. His portfolio went flying out of his hands, and he landed hard on the sidewalk below. "Owww," he groaned, rolling onto his back, his mind dizzy from the fall, and his heart pounding.

"Hey! Are you okay?" A form was leaning over him, and it took a few seconds for Steve to focus and realize -- it was Bucky.

"Yeah, I -- my drawings!" Steve tried to get to his feet, but his body still hadn't quite caught up on recovering, so he fell back against the ground, but this time with Bucky's arm around him, keeping him from hitting his head on the ground. That should have been... something, but he was really more concerned about the sketches that were now on the wet ground.

"Stay put," Bucky said, and Steve lay there for a second before he realized what Bucky was doing.

Steve sat up again, this time more slowly. "You don't have to--" He stopped because it was too late.

Bucky had a stack of papers in his hand, but he was staring at the one on top. His expression was one Steve had never seen on anyone before, tense and awed at the same time as he gazed at his own form on the page.

"Sorry," he said, when he noticed Steve watching him. He held the drawings out to Steve. "It's good."

"No need to apologize. It's... a picture of you, it's only fair you get to see it." Steve reached around for the portfolio and tucked the pages back in. 

Bucky stood upright. "I don't, uh, look at a lot of the drawings of myself. I try to avoid it, actually."

"Why?"

"I just don't. Here." He reached his hand out to Steve. Steve took his hand and allowed Bucky to help him to his feet. "Are you okay? That was a hell of a tumble."

Steve smiled. "I'm fine. I don't know how I'll feel in the morning. And thanks -- for getting the drawings."

"Don't want your hard work going to waste. Ae you sure you okay? You didn't hit your head, did you?"

Usually, Steve didn't like to be fussed over, but the concerned in Bucky's eyes, it was genuine and sweet. "No, I think I got my elbow mostly. And I'm wearing a jacket, so..."

Bucky nodded. "Do you mind if I walk with you a little bit? Just to make sure you don't pass out?"

Steve was about to protest, and then a thought occurred to him: Bucky might be hitting on him. _Had_ he hit his head? Or was Bucky simply a nice person?

"Yeah, that's fine," Steve said, trying not to sound weird or eager. "My bus stop is over on 4th."

They started toward the edge of campus, and Bucky looked over at him. "What's your name?"

Steve laughed. "Sorry, yeah, I'm Steve. Hi."

"Bucky." He extended his hand and Steve shook it.

"Yeah, I know. I was in the class."

"Right, yeah." Bucky grinned, mostly to himself. "So, you're an art student?"

Steve shook his head. "No, I... it's a hobby. I always liked drawing, it's fun. But for my day job, I'm a data analyst."

Bucky pulled an impressed face. "Oh, you have a real job."

"You don't?"

"I have a lot of jobs. I take on modeling gigs when I can, I work at a bakery over on 14th street, I baby-sit my sister's kids on the weekends."

Those all sounded like real jobs to Steve, but he understood what Bucky meant. It wasn't a nine-to-five with benefits and a 401k. It was different, that's all. And Steve wasn't going to tell him it was the same when he definitely made a lot more money. 

"Do you just do figure modeling?" Steve asked. He thought back to that glimpse between Bucky's legs.and then immediately tried to push the image out of his mind.

Bucky shook his head. "Whatever I can get work doing. I've done some print, some art stuff. Figure modeling is the most consistent, though. Of course, it pays the least, but what can you do?"

"I don't know how you don't look at the pictures. I'd have to look."

Bucky made a face. "I guess... I gave all these scars, right? And my arm is gone, and I don't need to see how that makes other people feel. You can tell when they're uncomfortable, it shows in the way they avoid drawing the scars, or the space where an arm should be. I know how I feel about my body. I don't always need to feel how someone else feels about it."

A pit began to form in Steve's stomach. "How did my drawing make you feel?"

Bucky tilted his head toward Steve and smiled softly. "Seen. Not just viewed, but really seen. It's nice."

"Oh." Steve's shoulders relaxed, but the tightness in his stomach didn't disappear. "Thank you."

"It's not fair, though." There was still a smile on Bucky's face, and Steve had a feeling he was being teased.

"What's that?"

Bucky's smile spread into a grin. "You've seen me naked, and we haven't even been out on a date."

A shiver ran through Steve and he smiled up at Bucky coyly. "Then what do you want to do first? Go on a date or make it even?"

Bucky's eyes lit up. "I'm old fashioned. Let's have a drink."

Steve grabbed the front of Bucky's shirt and pulled him down so they were looking at each other eye-to-eye. "I'm forward," he said and kissed Bucky softly.

There was a moment of hesitation, and then Bucky grinned against his mouth, and kissed him back, his hand in Steve's hair. Steve swelled toward Bucky, their bodies pressing together.

"We could have that drink back at my place," Steve mumbled.

"Talented _and_ smart," Bucky replied. He placed his warm palm on Steve's cheek. "It figures."

Steve grinned. "Flattery works every time. I'm taking you home."


End file.
